


Running Wild and Free

by TheAutumnLeaves



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin is a good son, Freeing Shmi, Slavery, he does his best, if a somewhat crappy apprentice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-06 23:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19072753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAutumnLeaves/pseuds/TheAutumnLeaves
Summary: On a mission, Anakin catches a glimpse of someone he thought he might never see again, despite what he'd told her. And he's not the type to let an opportunity pass him by, no matter how hard he tries to be. He runs after his mother, and future events are.... maybe.... shifted.





	Running Wild and Free

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I changed one word.

“Master.” Anakin tugged quickly on Obi-Wan’s sleeve, peering out of their hiding spot in the opposite direction to his teacher’s gaze.  
“Shh,” Obi-Wan hissed, still focused down the street.  
For a second, Anakin hovered in uncertainty, torn between his loyalty to his teacher, and the distant form of a woman he could swear he recognized. He knew that Obi-Wan had put days and weeks into arranging this mission, and that it was important, but if that really was his mother just down the block –  
He was on his feet before he had consciously made the decision. He heard Obi-Wan say something, and for a second, was aware of his master’s hand around his wrist, but the woman had turned. For just a second, she had hesitated in her transaction with the merchant, had looked right at him, as if she’d known he was there, and he couldn’t hide.  
He’d salvage Obi-Wan’s mission, that would be fine, it had always worked out before. Saving his mom hadn’t.  
Without being aware of the decision to move, he found himself running down the block, hurried by the sight of his mother turning away to continue her shopping, seeming to shake her head to herself.  
There was bruising under her eye, red marks across her cheek. He could sense, as he always had, but now a thousand times clearer, the pain of her beatings. Watto must’ve sold her, or lost her in a bet, too, and her new master was cruel –  
She began to turn down a set of steps to mass transit, and Anakin threw the last of his caution to the winds.  
“MOM!”  
He distantly felt Obi-Wan’s flare of annoyance. If he hadn’t been obvious before, his Padawan braid flying behind him as he raced through the slow-moving street, their quarry would definitely be aware of him now. More importantly, though, his mom had looked up, freezing in the midst of an uncaring crowd that simply parted around her.  
“Mom!” he cried again, reaching her in the stream of anonymous strangers, and throwing his arms around her neck. “Mom.”  
There was no hesitation in her, not a single second in which she didn’t recognize him, or a flicker of uncertainty at his approach. He looked different now, he knew that, he dressed differently, and cut his hair differently, and he’d been sprouting up recently, but his mom wrapped her arms around him in return, and squeezed him for all she was worth.  
“Anakin,” she said, and Anakin’s breath caught in his throat at her voice. Force, he’d missed her so much. And now she was in his arms, pressing her cheek to his and smelling like her cheap shampoo, and she was too skinny, but she was alive, at least.  
“Mom,” he whispered again, pressing his face into her hair for just another moment, before pulling back to see her better. He was just a little taller than her now, and it felt strange to see her from a different angle. “Mom, I-,” he stammered to a halt, thinking of the very, very thin chance that maybe he hadn’t ruined Obi-Wan’s approach yet. “I can save you, now,” he offered instead.  
He slipped his arms down from her shoulders to hold onto her hands, and she smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but return it.  
Even now, even though he was taller than her, and healthier than her, and training to be a Jedi, just her smile made him feel safer.  
As if she’d heard his thought, she pulled his hands, dragging him out of the stream of people, her grocery bag slipping down from her elbow to rest uncomfortably on their joined hands. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. For another long, long second, he only watched her, smiling giddily, before he realized that the heavy bag was probably uncomfortable for her, and hurried to release her, twisting the bag into his own grasp before it could fall, and quickly digging in his pocket for the funds the Temple had given him for the mission.  
“I can buy you.”  
For a moment, his mom stared at the money in his palm, before quickly folding his hand back over it. “Anakin, you have to be more careful,” she said, her voice full of terrified awe. He remembered that feeling, from the day Qui-Gon had told him that he would be free, and he thought, briefly, that he might pass out from the emotion of the memory and seeing her, before he forced it down, and laughed instead.  
“Mom! I’m a Jedi!” he said, only just remembering to lower his voice before someone else could hear him. “I don’t need to be careful anymore! I can take you home, and no one can ever hit you again!”  
“Anakin.”  
He turned sharply to find Obi-Wan at his shoulder, and immediately shrank back towards his mother, squeezing her fingers tightly.  
“Hi, Obi-Wan,” he mumbled.  
His teacher’s arms were crossed, and his forehead was creased with that emotion Anakin had become so used to seeing, although he still couldn’t put a name to it. He looked like he’d packed up their entire vantage point before coming over to him, and Anakin felt a prickle of guilt. The criminal really must’ve got away if Obi-Wan hadn’t even tried to hold his station.  
He opened his mouth to apologize, but Shmi beat him to it.  
“Master Kenobi,” she said, and Anakin looked sharply at her as she slipped her hand out of his to bow. “Are you my Anakin’s teacher?”  
Obi-Wan looked like he’d been startled out of a good lecture, automatically accepting Shmi’s hand as he nearly dropped some of their surveillance equipment. Anakin hurried to steady it on his shoulder, desperately relieved that his mother had stepped in.  
“Ah, yes,” Obi-Wan said, still looking rattled as Shmi furiously shook his hand. At first, Anakin was ready to sit back and just watch Obi-Wan’s confusion, before his teacher began to look back at him, and his mother immediately tugged on his hand again, drawing his attention back to her, and Anakin recognized what she was doing.  
She was protecting him.  
“No, Mom, it’s okay,” he said, still supporting Obi-Wan’s gear with one hand. “He won’t hurt me. He’s been really kind.”  
She looked at him again, and he could see that old, familiar, protective fire in her eyes, before it slowly flickered out, and he was suddenly faced with tears.  
“Oh, no,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin only distantly heard him, watching in horror as his mother started to cry. Before he could process it, he found Obi-Wan passing him gear, freeing up his arms before offering them to Shmi. “It’s alright, Mrs. Skywalker.”  
For a second, Shmi recoiled from him, and it seemed as if her bruises were thrown into harsher relief.  
“Mom-,” Anakin said, taking an uncertain step closer. He’d already been feeling sort of helpless, and now that his arms were full, he was desperately aware that he couldn’t even offer her his hand.  
But she seemed reassured at his voice, and slowly leaned against Obi-Wan, barely managing to draw a breath before letting out a desperate sob into his shoulder.  
“Alright…” he sighed, and Anakin followed desperately as he walked her away from the crowd, towards a large, flat rock, and carefully helped Shmi to sit down. “Your son and I are here,” he assured her, and Anakin watched nervously as he slowly rubbed her back.  
Carefully unloading the gear next to Obi-Wan, he quickly went to his mother’s side, and pulled her towards himself instead, feeling tension slip out of her body as she leaned against him. Distressed, he put his arms around her again, nuzzling into her hair, and daring to close his eyes, trusting Obi-Wan to keep an eye on the galaxy for him.  
“I thought you might have died!” Shmi cried, and Anakin grasped her tighter as she wrapped her hands around the straps of his tunic as if to keep him close by sheer refusal to let go. “When you left, I thought there would be news broadcasts, or letters, and then I got the datafile from the Jedi…”  
“Datafile?” Anakin asked, looking up at Obi-Wan.  
The older Jedi sighed, and Anakin almost protested as his teacher reached out to rub Shmi’s back again, but bit it back, knowing that Obi-Wan would probably know how to help.  
“Jedi are not allowed contact with their families. When we take on younglings, it is traditional to alert the parents to that fact, but given the… unusual nature of your recruitment, Master Qui-Gon didn’t have the opportunity to explain.”  
“I would have… I would have sent you anyway,” Shmi croaked, and Anakin bent his head, kissing her hair and squeezing her again.  
“I know. I know, Mom…”  
“I didn’t get a chance to look it over before they sent it,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin jumped as his teacher’s hand found his shoulder. “It wasn’t as tactful as it could have been.”  
“Wasn’t as tactful?” Shmi asked, and for a second, Anakin thought that she was going to start shouting, but she just laughed, withdrawing from his arms, tears still on her cheeks. “They told me that I was no longer Anakin’s family, and I should forget I had ever had him!”  
Obi-Wan winced, and Anakin felt himself stiffen at those words. His mother hadn’t been the only one who had been shocked by the rigidity of that rule, he’d tried a couple times to get letters back to his mom, and been scolded pretty harshly for it. He hadn’t realized they’d been as rough on her, though… he’d thought it’d just been the Jedi way to expect him to cut off contact so sharply.  
“If it had been up to me, I would have tried very hard to be gentler,” Obi-Wan said.  
Shmi didn’t answer, instead putting her arm around Anakin, and pulling him close again. He half felt that he should fight, and try to remain the protector, but he thought she might’ve been almost as comforted by being the comforter, so he let himself be held.  
The silence stretched, and he could almost smell the tension building in the air. He didn’t know if Obi-Wan had heard his offer to buy her, and he didn’t know if he’d approve. He wouldn’t leave his mom again, though. Not now that he could do something, not now that no one else’s life hung in the balance.  
“I want-,” he began, at the same moment that Obi-Wan began to speak as well.  
“I understand that you’ll want to free her.”  
Anakin felt a tremble run through him, and he leaned his head against his mother’s chest, trusting her to hold him tight through whatever he had to say, whatever he had to do to be permanently reunited.  
“I stand behind you,” Obi-Wan finished, meeting Anakin’s eyes. “One hundred percent, Anakin.”  
Anakin exhaled unevenly, clutching his mom’s arm closer to his chest in desperate relief. “Thank you, Master. I… I’m sorry about your mission. I know you worked really hard.”  
Obi-Wan shook his head. “Your mother was of greater concern to you. I know how hard it’s been for you without her.”  
Anakin wanted to argue, defend himself. He half felt that Obi-Wan was calling him a child, but he was lying against his mom’s chest.  
“I guess you can see what having a mom is all about, now,” he said, managing a smile. “I… I was gonna use my money from the Temple to buy her, but I don’t really know if it’s gonna be enough.”  
“Between us, I’m sure we can scrape together the money,” Obi-Wan assured him. “However, it is unlikely that the Council will take kindly to your mother moving into your quarters.”  
Anakin swallowed. He’d known that he was pressing it even just running to greet her, but Obi-Wan had taken it all so well that he’d caught himself hoping that maybe this was when it all turned around, and he was finally able to do what he had to to keep it together, even if it went against the Code.  
“I need her,” he protested, gripping her closer again. “Master, you know I-.”  
“I know that you would be happier with your mother,” Obi-Wan agreed.  
Anakin wanted to argue that he wouldn’t just be happier with his mother, but that his mother would only be safe and happy with him, that they needed each other, and if the Jedi wanted him, from here on out, that meant wanting his mom, too.  
“Anakin,” Obi-Wan said gently, and Anakin watched as his master carefully laid a hand over his arm. “There’s nothing for her to do at the Temple.”  
“That would be okay!” Anakin protested, “Mom’s been doing stuff her whole life, she needs a break!”  
His mother caressed his head, and he looked up to her, instinctively recognizing her old sign for him to be quiet.  
“Thank you, Master Kenobi,” she said softly, and Anakin swallowed his anger that she was giving in, leaning back against her instead.  
“Could she go to Naboo?” he asked, nervously. He knew he could hardly ask for an apartment on Coruscant, because that would either cost more than the pair of them were worth or put her right back in the slums. But the idea of his mom sharing the planet he had saved with the pretty girl who had saved him… that was okay.  
Obi-Wan looked at him in surprise. “Unusually practical of you,” he said, giving Anakin a small smile. “Naboo seems as good a choice as any.”  
Anakin exhaled, grasping his mom’s arms tightly to his chest. “What about for the rest of the mission?” he asked uncertainly, “It’s okay if she stays that long, right?”  
“It would take more resources to send her off in advance,” Obi-Wan agreed. Anakin knew he was doing more than he had to, because the Jedi could definitely absorb the cost of shipping off one woman.  
“Thanks.” He smiled at Obi-Wan, carefully extricating himself from his mother’s arms, “We should go pay for her before she gets any later.”  
Shmi nodded her agreement, and attempted to gather her shopping, but Anakin had swung it over his shoulder, along with Obi-Wan’s equipment, before his mother could lay a hand on it.  
“Anakin,” she scolded, reaching for him, but he laughed, sidestepping her, and refusing her help, before Obi-Wan came for him as well, seeming to catch the lighthearted mood as he grabbed for one of the tripods.  
“I’ve got this!” Anakin said, trying again to escape, only for Obi-Wan to snag a trailing tarp, and wrest some of his surveillance supplies back. Anakin allowed him, shrugging a bundle of supplies into his master’s hands, but when his mother attempted to regain some of her shopping, he avoided her again. “You’ve been carrying enough, Mom.”  
She looked at him, for a moment seeming somewhat annoyed, before sighing, and lowering her arms, coming to lean against him somewhat. He carefully freed an arm, balancing the rest of Obi-Wan’s equipment perilously on his shoulder, before his teacher came and reclaimed the rest of it.  
“Lead the way, Mom,” he said, gesturing dramatically for her to step ahead of them. She gave him a watery smile, and stepped forwards, and he found himself automatically following her closely. He couldn’t let her out of sight, if a single stranger stepped between the pair of them –  
Feeling foolish and childish, he slipped his free hand into hers, rearranging the groceries on his shoulder to allow for it.  
She smiled at him again, and pulled him to her side, supporting herself against him, and he laid his cheek against her head, feeling safe in her embrace.  
When they reached the store where Shmi informed them she had been working, Anakin stiffened, pulling her closer, afraid to meet the man who had hurt her.  
“Stay here,” Obi-Wan said firmly, patting Anakin’s arm, and placing some of his equipment on the ground, leaning it against his apprentice.  
Anakin opened his mouth to argue, but his master caught him with a look, and shook his head slightly.  
“Keep your mother safe.”  
He knew Obi-Wan was brushing him off, trying to placate him, but his mom had been beaten by whoever owned the store, and she exhaled in relief as Obi-Wan promised she wouldn’t have to enter. The placation attempt was working, he thought ruefully, as he held his mother close, carefully placing the groceries at their feet, to better hide her.  
“Where is Naboo?” she asked quietly.  
“It’s where Padmé’s from,” he answered, glad of the distraction. “Remember, the girl who helped free me?”  
“Yes,” Shmi said. “She was kind.”  
“Very,” he agreed, carefully rubbing her back in small, slow circles. “She’s great, Mom, she was so nice to me after we left Tatooine.”  
“Watto was killed in a raid,” Shmi said, clearly trying to keep silence from falling for the two of them to hear her master’s voice. “I was sold off-planet, because they were worried about the Hutts.”  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t free you the first time, Mom,” he said, squeezing her before the sound of the door opening drew his attention.  
In the doorway, like a messenger of heaven, was Obi-Wan, deactivator in hand.  
“Alright, Mrs. Skywalker,” he said, approaching the pair. “Spread your arms, please.”  
Shmi stepped away from Anakin, and obediently spread her arms, waiting in silence as Obi-Wan ran the tracer over her. Anakin held his breath, hating to be separated from her by even mere inches. It would be just like a slaver to have engineered some sort of trap, to detonate the tracker manually, blow his mother and teacher to hell, and leave him holding some worthless groceries –  
But the deactivator beeped several times as Obi-Wan ran it over Shmi’s spine, and she dropped her arms, turning back to Anakin with a look of relief.  
“Are we good to go?” he asked anxiously. He knew, gnawingly, that his mother might’ve had things she’d want to bring, but he wanted to get them all as far away from the slaver as possible.  
“Certainly,” she agreed, fiercely, grabbing a couple of bags of groceries from his feet before he could stop her, and heading back towards the market, seemingly at random.  
Obi-Wan smiled, retrieving the equipment he had stacked against Anakin. “This way, ma’am,” he said, and Anakin scrambled for the remaining groceries and supplies, and followed after them, as Shmi sharply changed course and followed the Jedi.  
They were back at the ship before anyone gave thought to Shmi’s groceries.  
“These were for Idalo,” she laughed, looking down at the groceries she had placed on the counter of the tiny kitchen unit. “I forgot.”  
“More for us,” Anakin joked, investigating her purchases, and finding a box of crackers they’d used to buy on Tatooine, once in a while. He perched happily on a kitchen stool, and Obi-Wan shook his head at him.  
“You eat your mother’s groceries, I’m going to track down our man.”  
“I’ll come with you,” Anakin amended, quickly, around a mouthful of crackers.  
Obi-Wan just smiled at him, patting his knee. “No, you stay here. He’d recognize you a mile off, after you raced down the street, shouting.”  
“Sorry,” Anakin said. It was easier to feel at least a little genuinely guilty, now that his mom was safe.  
Obi-Wan looked at him for a long moment, and Anakin had the distinct feeling that he was searching for the right words.  
“I don’t blame you.”


End file.
